


Stitched

by NovocainePlacebo



Category: Dialtown: Phone Dating Sim (Visual Novel)
Genre: Denise is a germophobe, Denise uses they/them pronouns, Ducks, Genderlfuid Original Character, Other, Painful Yet Happy Memories, Stim Toys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:53:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovocainePlacebo/pseuds/NovocainePlacebo
Summary: Don't worry, it's just your local dialtown oc/canon, nothing to see here.Denise Cotton, a local sewer rat with a pink gun for a head, a wild duck whisperer and an owner of four. Lives in their friend's basement and steals clothes. That's about it.Oh, and Randy is here too, enjoy!
Relationships: Randy Jade/Original Character
Kudos: 1





	Stitched

**Author's Note:**

> First, I want to thank my buddy from Discord that was patient enough to survive my ramblings and spelling errors. Love ya man.
> 
> Second, this is my second (lol) work ever posted online and for the love of god dont look at at the first--SO i need some advice on writing. Thanks a lot, enjoy!!

Denise doesn't know if it's nighttime in Dialtown or daytime in Dialtown whenever they rise from their soft cushions. Either way, basements have it to them that they're always dark, no matter the sun cycle above.

Also either way, it would still be creepy as fuck if you'd hear a loud honking in the sewers just a door away from you.

Not that Denise isn't used to the sound, quite the opposite actually. They took care of the fowl that found their place in the park's stationary pond, as well as their own that lived in their laundry room. Would love to take them all here, but you know, sleeping in the same room with a flock of ducks isn't... sanitary. _Nor is living in the sewers or isolation from society of any kind,_ they heard their friend say one day.

What threw Denise off, is that the honking wasn't that of a goose kind, but rather a _swan_ kind. And any person that knows a thing or two about the local park, is that these avian creatures are more of a threat to the community than the local mob. And that's saying something.

If they want to continue their slumber and wake up fully rested for their next clothing heist, they need to get rid of the source of the disturbance that is the honking.

Denise threw their covers away and sat on the bed, rubbing their head which had the shape of a glock and placing their reptilian feet on the soft, gray carpeted floor. It's THAT kind of carpet, where everything that falls on it gets lost in the fluffy abyss. It was not only a decorative choice, but a comfortable one as well. Their feet may be covered in scales and have these horrendous claws, but they're just as vulnerable to cold concrete and sharp objects that may fall on it as any other foot. Damn, even the cryptid that escaped from the zoo wore bowling alley shoes when they fear civilization, live in a tent and are absolutely feral.

Denise left the soft mattress, to their dissatisfaction, grabbed a nearby raincoat with medical supplies and with some grumbles walked out the door.

Like said before, in any underground tunnels or rooms, no matter day or night it's always dark. Dark, smelly and wet. Seriously, liquids are everywhere and Denise is 100% certain most of it ain't water. Many things are spilled on the streets only to be washed away by the rain into the sewers, many of which Denise does not want to speak of.

The echo of the honks was deafening as they became louder and louder with every splashing step Denise took. Each time the water level was going higher and higher.

It seemed like it was a typical Monday until they heard a person scream. Okay their bad, that would make it a typical Saturday. The man's on the loose.

They regreted waking up today. Why today? Easy. Life's a bitch. But also because Denise could see sunlight at the end of the tunnel. A little bit too bright for their comfort. Dailtown, like any town or city, has a complicated labirynth of sewers. It's no surprise if nobody notices a hole in a wall that leads to a canal. And the canal comes two in one with a pond. That's how Denise's feathery children can enjoy the water without animal control being called over.

Going through the canal waist deep in water, they enter a thick reed that covers the opening. No surprise as well, it was Randy. Yep, that Randy. Jean jacket-wearing, Nokia-headed, and bandage-covered Randy. But without the latter, as his already bloodied bandages were torn from his palms. The only person to willingly approach a wild swan in Dialtown. Well, okay not willingly, his financial problems force him to it.

The man looked even more miserable than the other day Denise had seen him. Not only was he covered in blood and soaked in musty water, but his clothes looked more worn than ever. The bandages that were once tied around his palms were dirty and dishevelled, on the ground. His hands were decorated in yet another mozaic of cuts, bites and scratches. The man kneeled, trying to recollect his lost balance to avoid a harsh confrontation with the ground.

Well, it was a typical image of Denise's Saturday. They're usually out doing something else on other days, specifically at this hour. Like providing products to a shop above their head in which their friend works at and this friend is the only source of food for their fowl. They get to live peacefully in the basement and their friend gets his money. It's a symbiosis that worked perfectly for three years.

And well, like any given Saturday, Denise just walks back to their room. There's no point in a sewer rat creep getting involved with an adult's life. Yes, they would check up on him every Saturday to see if the man had already lost it or not, but that's it. Randy is a cowardly, incredibly weak-willed pushover that accepts everything the world throws at him. Be it a horrible job with a poor yet the only income he has as an example. He definetely could get a better job somewhere else, but he decides to live a life full of swan violence and hospital visits. Denise has no idea about the law or anything, but they hope Dialtown has free healthcare. If not, then yikes.

He needs someone in his trashy life to set him up straight, encourage him to stand up against the odds and stop beating himself up. Before the muggers or swans beat him to it, or both at the same time...

In conclusion, Randy needs somebody that definetely isn't Denise.

Before they turned their back, Denise took a last glance at the defeated swan-wrestler, and uh, it was not good.

Randy, now recovered from a probable concussion, was picking up the nasty bandages and trying to stop the bleeding by _putting them back on._ Everything with hasty, panicked movements.

All of Denise's remaining braincells had stopped responding.

The glock immediately reached for a tightly binded plastic bag in their pocket and, without a second thought, threw it in Randy's direction out of spite. After that, they retreated into the tunnel, full of anger.

By the shore, Randy stared at a plastic bag that descended from the sky, with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and fresh bandages inside. With the only energy he had after a particularly rough spar with an avian animal he muttered "P-Phone God?"

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The basement's walls quivered ever so slightly as the door was slammed. Four pencil sharpener headed water avians jumped slightly in the laundry room, looking up to their parent with worry.

Denise was fucking furious.

After scrubbing themselves with soap, bleach and clean water, they threw the pyjamas into the washing bin and left the raincoat on the tiled floor of the laundry room. They plopped back onto the mattress and hugged the cushions tightly, letting out the world's most frustrated groan.

They missed the truck. A truck full of products for the shop had already passed the spot, cause **they fucking forgot that it was today.**

You may wonder, what kind of shop is that maggot running that shelves are emptying so fast? Well, not shelves, but clothing hangers. Yes, Denise steals clothes for a thrift shop. Their friend's thrift shop.

_Wow, what a business full of profits. Definetely worth the hussle. Yeah, right. Nobody buys used clothes from PhoneLord knows where._

**Bet?**

The primary hook in that operation is that Rhett, yes his name is Rhett, donates most of the clothes to poor families, orphans and other people alike. To reward generosity, Rhett gets paid from this, and when he gets paid, it means he has money, and when he has money, he buys food for the ducks.

That truck was a golden mine, as Denise wouldn't have to break in somebody's house and take their whole wardrobe for 2 months.

It is absolutely worth the hussle.

That and Randy.

Denise doesn't need bandages or all other medical stuff, they could just stitch it back. Without blood spilling and staining. As much as how practical it was, Denise always dreamed to have a living body, with the cells and shit. They craved to have a real body.

So seeing Randy bringing these filthy bandages, probably full of bacteria and fungus, up to his wounds... _Phone God, it made them squirm!_ Fighting wild birds aside, that was absolutely disgusting!

They regretted leaving the bed. The gunheaded had... quite a bit on their mind. A tangled wire in their big stupid head. It whirled around and made this stupid sound. Everything about it was stupid! Denise is sure Rhett won't berate them, and Randy? Randy is an adult! A human, to add.

Why is Denise so angry? The more they thought about it, the more knots started growing in their chest and their organ-less abdomen, and something pulled on them. Thousands of fishing hooks latched on the knots and started to pull in several different directions. Denise felt like they were being torned apart. Forcefully shredded to spill everything out.

Yet there was nothing. Only a void.

They really shouldn't have woke up today.

Denise reached for a box under the bed and pulled out a tangle. They started to play with it. They hear a soft tapping of two little feet and a quack. They will talk to Rhett tomorrow.


End file.
